


My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck

by screamingiminlovewithyou



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingiminlovewithyou/pseuds/screamingiminlovewithyou
Summary: Michelle Jones:Friend. Sister. Daughter. Rebel. Badass. Lover. Cynical. Calm. Sarcastic.Procrastinator.Kisser.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 79





	My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck

**Author's Note:**

> helloooo, i've had a serious writer's block lately and it's taken me a lot to write but i also wanted to post this so i hope you enjoy this short drabble.
> 
> title's taken from Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

Michelle Jones:

Friend. Sister. Daughter. Rebel. Badass. Lover. Cynical. Calm. Sarcastic.

Procrastinator.

_Kisser._

Peter ran through this list in his head as he blinked up at the ceiling, mouth agape, breath escaping him. Michelle’s lips hard and insistent on his neck.

Kisser, _lover_ , so good at both of those things. He felt himself make a soft sound, fingers skidding across the bedsheets, too soft, too slippery to hold onto, and up to MJ’s shoulder, hard muscle that his fingers pressed into. He felt loose and taught all at once as he let his girlfriend surround him.

He felt how his entire body moved with the kisses she was pressing, licking, biting into her neck, felt the fingers clenched around his hip, the other on the free side of his neck, keeping the skin open and raw for her to cover and warm. The only thing Peter could feel over his mouth was the hard pants of breath Michelle let out against his skin whenever she broke for air.

Then, there was a tugging at his neck, at part of the shirt covering his chest, MJ’s fingers hooking into the material, voice muffled, “’s useless, getting in m’way.”

He, even through the fog in his mind, let out a laugh, and his fingers lifted to clumsily take the shirt off, “Couldn’t have that.” Her voice came out as a breath of its usual tenor.

MJ groaned and sat up a bit, elbows on either side of her lover’s ribs, and pushed his hands off, fingers nimble and hurried until she yanked the shirt from around his head cause it somehow got stuck, making him help and clutch at the wet, rawly kissed side of it.

‘Careful.” Peter hissed, feeling the heat of the redness that was probably showing thanks to the quick pull of the rough fabric against his skin.

Michelle made a soft noise, not at all matching the sharp smile that pulled at her lips as she leaned forward to press a brush of a kiss to his lips and said, “Sorry, babe. I’ll make it better,” only to promptly _pounce_ on his skin once again. The heat was heaven against the tender skin, warm and soft and complimented by the weight of MJ's body over his, relentlessly there, grounding him. Her palm moved back to the side of his neck as she trailed the kisses up towards his jawline, over his high cheekbone, until Peter tilted his chin up, leaning his head off the pillow to catch Michelle’s quick mouth, the mouth of the _rebel, cynical, badass, kisser,_

_lover,_

_lover,_

_lover,_

_lover._

“I love you.” Peter whispered into her, “love you.” He hooked his socked foot around MJ’s calf, arm around her waist, and kissed her again, harder, straining into it in an effort to pour everything there, to make her know, even if she already did.

Peter would tell Michelle over, and over, because he knew she struggled with it sometimes, all this warmth that had never been there before.

She shook as it surrounded her, overwhelmed and craving it, and after all her kissing, let herself be kissed in return, sinking against his chest.

MJ’s voice broke over the words, “Love you, Pete. _Love you_.”

They said it twice. Because twice wasn’t a slip, was not a heat of the moment, was not taken lightly. Twice was a promise and a truth.

Peter sucked MJ’s lip into his mouth, tweaking it gently with his teeth just to feel the soft grin against his own lips, and then parted hers with his tongue. Both arms wrapped around her chest and back, pressing them closer as she eased his head back against his pillow with the pressure of his kisses.

“You know what I like.” She mumbled, “This.” Her fingers stroked the blush that angled itself on Peter's cheeks, “And this.” She licked over the kiss-swollen redness of her boyfriend's mouth, “And this.” She ducked down, just for a second, and nipped the sensitive pulse point of Peter's neck, knowing already what the sound that came out of Peter would be like but wanting to hear it anyway. “And this, too.” She kissed Peter's mouth again, but her fingertips found the slightly sweat-damp tips of his hair, curled against his temples, “So much. I love it all, so much.”

“Em.” He breathed. He felt a little like he was going to be crushed. By everything, in the best way, by this heavy, heavy weight of being _wanted_.

MJ just hummed, dragging her lips down until they were at the hollow of Peter's throat. She nosed the dip there, fingers unbuttoning Peter's pants, kissing each bit of lean chest that was revealed as she did so. Peter, once again, found himself blinking blearily up at the ceiling of the dorm, fingers running lazily through his girlfriend's summer cut hair, the shortest he had ever seen it, bouncing and curling just above her breasts.

“I love your hair.” He found himself saying, and _felt_ Michelle's low chuckle.

“Yeah?” 

They looked at each other then, lazily and grinning, Peter's fingers tugging at the dark strands, “I mean, I loved it before, but this is…you look…” MJ raised an eyebrow and he just huffed a laugh, “Like yourself. I don’t know.”

She snorted, and then he did, and then they were laughing. Peter's head fell back with it, MJ's forehead dropped to his chest, and then they were laughing into each other and he loved this. Loved how it was hot, and then heavy, then soft, somber, happy, light. A push and pull of heat and cold and light and dark twining around and around to just create _them_. It would never be just one thing. Then MJ was kissing him again, mind-numbingly, and the labels for everything fell away and it was just them being together.

Peter loved that most of all, and he thought, as he held Michelle tightly,

Michelle Jones:

Friend. Sister. Daughter. Rebel. Badass. Lover. Cynical. Calm. Sarcastic.

Procrastinator.

Kisser _._

_His._

(Maybe aunt May was right and he felt that ring he got the other day burning a hole through his underwear drawer.

He should propose soon.

Or maybe later after they're done kissing)

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand this is it! hope you enjoyed it!!!! feedback and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> hope you have a nice day/ night!!!
> 
> you can find me on twitter as @aftrglcws


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